


Pretend

by Your_Friendly_Neighborhood_Pigeon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Depression, F/M, Homophobia, Self-Harm, college au sort of, im sorry, sad akaashi, slight abuse, supportive bokuto kuroo and kenma, this is v bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:30:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6152248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Your_Friendly_Neighborhood_Pigeon/pseuds/Your_Friendly_Neighborhood_Pigeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when the wave comes crashing down and swallows you up? </p><p>What do you do when the glass you’re holding stumbles out of your hands, and the life you knew lays before you in multiple shards?</p><p>Well, it’s simple, really. </p><p>You pretend your world isn’t spiraling out of control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretend

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I randomly have had this idea for awhile?? I don't know sad Akaashi is my favorite, I love angst. (even though I am bad at it)
> 
> I read through this a lot and looked for mistakes and stuff that didn't make sense but I am awful at editing stuff so there's probably still some mistakes.
> 
> WARNING PLEASE READ IMPORTANT: There is detailed description of self-harming! And major homophobia. So if any of that makes you uncomfortable I'm sorry please don't read it if it makes you uncomfortable.

What do you do when the wave comes crashing down and swallows you up? 

What do you do when the glass you’re holding stumbles out of your hands, and the life you knew lays before you in multiple shards?

What do you do when the people you thought were teammates- who you thought were friends- turn their backs and only give you the light of day when the coaches glance their way?

What do you do when you stand before your mother, her eyes wide with disgust and disbelief as she bursts into tears, exclaiming ‘I didn’t raise you to be this way!’?

What do you do when your father comes home, and your mother speaks in whispers, her voice floating upstairs, before your father storms in, hitting you for the first time? When he balls up his fists, anger swirling in his dark eyes, screaming, 

_“I didn’t raise a faggot.”_?

Well, it’s simple, really. 

You pretend your world isn’t spiraling out of control. 

\-----------------

Akaashi stands in front of the doors, closing his eyes. He takes a deep breath, mustering up the courage to enter the gym. 

Ever since he told the team he was gay- because he thought he could trust them, he thought they would support him (boy, was he wrong)-they treated him as if he had some sort of disease. They avoiding him during school, and only acknowledged his presence on court, because they hated to admit it, but he was a talented setter. They gave him glares and sneered insults, but smiled and treated him like he was actually part of the team when the coaches glanced their way. 

When he told them- full of confidence- he wasn’t expecting them to respond the way they did. What he really didn’t expect, was the team going to his home, and breaking the ‘bad news’ to his mother. That night, his mother confronted him. He should’ve lied, he should've laughed it off- but he didn’t. 

She cried, and when his father came home, she informed him on the day's events. Akaashi heard his dad’s heavy footsteps storm up the stairs, throwing his door open. He screamed, and the next thing Akaashi knew, his cheek was stinging where his father had hit him. 

Gently lifting a hand and placing it on his cheek, Akaashi glares at the gym doors. There was just one month left of high school, then college would be a new start. He didn’t need anyone, didn’t need friends. Volleyball was all he had. All he needed. 

At least, that’s what he told himself. 

Squaring his shoulders, he opens the the door as quietly as possible. Of course he didn’t go unnoticed. Right as he steps into the gym, a volleyball barrels towards him, hitting him square in the face. 

His head tilts back a bit from the force, and as the volleyball hits the floor, he feels something trail down his nose, over his lip, and down his chin. Sighing in annoyance, he makes a beeline for the first-aide kit. A half-assed ‘Sorry Akaashi!’ is thrown at him as he rips open the container. 

He grabs tissues, wiping off his face. He gently plugs his nose, sitting down to wait for his coach to tell him he could practice. 

When his coach glances at him and nods, he pulls the tissue out of his nose. Red soaked through the cloth, causing a small huff to pass through his lips.

This shade of red was becoming very common in his life now-a-days. 

\------------------

Closing the door, he shuffles inside, kicking off his shoes. He nervously looks around, hoping to make it to his room before his parents noticed he had made it home. He quickly runs up the stairs to his room, throwing his bag onto his floor. Akaashi grabs some sweatpants and one of his old hoodies. He then grabs his bag with his toothbrush and toothpaste in it- always keeping it in his room, because he didn’t trust his parents not to mess with it- retreating to the restroom. A long shower is what he needed after a day like this.

Retreating the bathroom, he swiftly locks the door, and turns the water on. He gently sets his clothes aside, opening his bag. He looks in, staring at the contents. he gently grabs the razor, his face void of any expression. He steps into the scalding hot shower, barely batting an eye at the burning sensation. 

He stares at the small piece of metal, finding weird comfort in the slight weight. Without thinking, Akaashi drags the sharp edge across his wrist. He watches as a small dotted line of blood seeps to the surface, and he narrows his eyes. This wasn’t his first time doing this. 

Dragging the blade down his wrist again, he stops to watch the blood trail down his pale arm. He watches it drip onto the white shower tiles, and he sighs. He takes the blade, and moves it down to his thighs. He digs the blade into his flesh, not blinking so he could watch the blood run down his thighs. 

It was times like these that he felt alive. 

\-----------

After his shower, he throws on his clothes, snuggling into the hoodie. All he wanted was to collapse on his bed and sleep forever. 

“Keiji.” 

Seems like life was not on his side tonight. But when was it, right? 

Descending down the stairs at a slow pace, he shuffles into the kitchen,and stares at his mother. She held a envelope in her hands. 

Crossing his arms, he glances at his father sitting at the table. What was she holding? Worst case scenarios play over in his head, but he keeps a neutral expression on his face. 

“You’re going to Tokyo.”

Huh?

“What?” He blurts out, confusion evident on his face. 

“For college. You got accepted- even got a volleyball scholarship.” She explains, waving the paper in her hands. “You’re going. No arguing. We don’t care that it’s far away- we want you as far as possible. Your father and I will pay, on one condition.” She says, narrowing her eyes. 

Akaashi raises an eyebrow, glancing at his father again. “And that is?” 

“You are not allowed to come back. Ever. You will go to school in Tokyo, you will stay in Tokyo, and the day you go to college will be the last we see of you. We do not wish to have a...a disappointment visiting us.” She says, crossing her arms. “Do we have a deal?”

Stuffing his hands into his hoodie pocket, he raises an eyebrow. This was probably the best news he could’ve ever gotten. Go to Tokyo? Go away from his parents who hated every fiber in his body? Never see any of his teammates again? 

“Deal.”

\-------

Packing one box for his volleyball stuff and some books, he stuffs all his clothes into a small duffle bag. He gently places his laptop and the charger for his phone in his backpack, placing his wallet in there as well. He gazes around his room, shrugging. It wasn’t much, but that was all he had. 

Slipping his phone into his back pocket, he retreats out of his room. He rarely used his phone, seeing how he had no friends to text, and every game he had got boring after a day. He only used it when he needed it. 

Slinging his backpack on his back, he takes his duffle bag over his shoulder, letting it rest on his hip. He then grabs the box, walking down the stairs. Glancing at the wallclock, he narrows his green eyes. His train left in twenty minutes, and it would take ten to walk there. 

He opens the door, glancing behind him. His parents sat on the couch, completely absorbed in the TV, not even glancing his way. This would be the last time he ever saw them. Yes, he was happy….but at the same time, they were his parents. He couldn’t help but feel sadness as he walked away from his childhood home. His parents were actually nice and they used to love him, but that was before they found out that he was a disappointment. 

Sighing heavily, Akaashi looks up at the sky. What was he even living for? 

\---------------

Twenty minutes and a train ride later, he found himself standing in front of his university. He hangs his head, taking a deep breath. This would be a new start. 

Akaashi makes his way to the dorms, digging into his backpack for his roomkey. He swiftly unlocks the door, pushing it open.

Only to find three people lounging on the couch. 

One sat with his eyes glued to his phone, music from some game echoing off the walls. His hair was blonde, but his black roots were showing. Another guy with a mop of black hair sat with a controller in his hands, his eyes glued to the Tv in front of him. Next to him was a guy with spiked up white and black hair. He also had a controller in his hands, and with closer inspection Akaashi saw that they were indeed playing some game.

He slowly closes the door, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. He was supposed to only have one roommate, so why were there three people? Friends of his roommate? Which one was his roommate? 

Not like it mattered, he didn’t plan on making any friends. Not like anyone would want to be his friend.  
He shuffles past them, grabbing the attention of the blonde. 

“Oh, you’re here. Hello.” He says in a quiet voice, causing Akaashi to freeze. He was hoping to slip by without anyone seeing. 

The two pause their game, turning their attention to the new member in the room. 

“Kenma’s roommate!” The one with spiked up hair exclaims, jumping up from the couch. He extends his hand, smiling. “Nice to meet you, I’m Bokuto Koutarou!” 

Akaashi raised an eyebrow, looking at the other two.”Um...Akaashi Keiji.” He mumbles, almost too quiet for the other to hear. He hesitantly reaches forward, shaking the guy’s hand. 

The one with a terrible bedhead grins, also extending his hand. “Kuroo Tetsurou. And this is Kenma Kozume.” He says, motioning to the blonde. Akaashi awkwardly shakes his hand as well, nodding politely at Kenma. 

“Hey, so do you want help getting the rest of your stuff?” Bokuto asks, glancing at the stuff in Akaashi’s hands. 

Akaashi nervously shifts from foot to foot, looking at the floor. “This is all I have.” He mumbles, still holding the box tightly in his hands. 

“Huh? That doesn’t seem like a lot of stuff.” Kuroo muses, plopping back down on the couch. 

Akaashi hums as a response, turning his attention to Kenma. “Which room is mine?”

Kenma looks up, pointing to the room on the left. Akaashi nods, moving his arms to reposition the boxes in his arms, not realizing his hoodie moved up his arms. 

Kuroo glances down at his arms, narrowing his eyes, but not saying anything. Kenma returns to his game, but Bokuto and Kuroo watch as Akaashi retreats to his new room. 

\------------

“Bro.” Bokuto stage whispers, dramatically collapsing on the couch, staring at the ceiling. ‘Kenma’s room mate is so _pretty_.” 

Kuroo frowns, glancing at the room. Maybe he shouldn’t think too much about it. He didn’t know the guy, so he couldn’t just make assumptions. “Yeah, yeah. He is, but Kenma is more my type.” He says, grinning. 

“You’re embarrassing.” Kenma mumbles, hiding his face with his hair. Kuroo laughs loudly, pulling Kenma closer to him. 

“You know you love meee.” He teases, placing a small kiss on the blonde’s cheek. 

“You made me die.” He mumbles, frowning down at his phone. Kenma then crawls into Kuroo’s lap, only to resume playing his game.

“You guys are disgusting! Throwing your relationship in my _face!_ ” Bokuto pouts, sinking into the couch. 

“You’re just jealous.” Kuroo muses, wrapping his arms around Kenma’s waist. 

Right then, Akaashi opens the door,only to freeze. Here his room mate was, with apparently his boyfriend. And they seemed...so comfortable. He stiffens up, his eyes growing wide. This...this wasn’t fair. He got shamed and thrown away for what he was, but...these two looked like they were easily accepted. Bokuto obviously didn’t have a problem with it. 

_‘What’s it like having a friend that supports you?’_ He wanted to ask, but bit his lip. Instead, he glances down at the volleyball in his hands. He wanted to go practice, but...now he wanted to go and cry. But they would probably hear him. 

He walks past the three, opening the door to exit the room. 

“Oh! Hey, hey, hey! Is that a volleyball?!” Bokuto exclaims, jumping up, his face brightening up. Akaashi slowly turns around, the same neutral expression on his face. 

“I got here on a volleyball scholarship. I’m a setter.” He explains, nervously spinning the ball in his hands. 

“Really?! That means you’ll be on the team with Kuroo and me! Kenma was a setter in highschool, but he gave it up once he got here.” The owl-like man rambles, nearly jumping up and down from excitement. “Are you going to go practice? Can you toss for me?” He asks, his eyes wide. 

Akaashi gives him a weird look, a frown forming on his face. He wanted...him, Akaashi Keiji, to toss for him? Willingly? 

“Don’t you already have a setter on the team? Why don’t you practice with them?” 

“Our setter graduated last year, so we’re lucky you showed up.” Kuroo says, still holding Kenma in his lap. Akaashi makes a point not to look at them, and he gazes at the floor. 

“Um..but why...would you practice with me outside of practice?...” He mumbles, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Huh? What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I want to practice with you?” Bokuto says, glancing at Kuroo in confusion. 

“Well, I mean...why would...you want to practice with me when you don’t have to? You could always wait till we have actual practice.’ Akaashi explains, biting his lip again. 

“Because! I have to get to know you! You’re Kenma’s roommate, and you’re going to be on the team!” 

“No, you don’t, unless you want to be disappointed.” He blurts out before he can stop himself, instantly stiffening up. “I-I me-mean…” He coughs, desperately looking around. 

Kuroo snorts, carefully setting Kenma aside, and standing up. he walks towards Akaashi, and snatches the ball out of his hands. He flinches in surprise, but quickly composes himself. 

“I'll come with you guys. And I really don’t think we’ll be disappointed.” Kuroo chuckles, leading the way out of the room. Akaashi watches as Bokuto whoops, racing to catch up with his friend. Kenma gets off the couch, moving out of the room to follow his boyfriend and friend. 

The blonde stops, turning around. “Come on.” He says, blinking slowly. Akaashi hesitates, but nods, walking after his roommate.

\------------------ 

Akaashi watches the volleyball fly through the air, landing in his hands for a split second before he tosses it to Bokuto. He watches as the spiker blasts it through Kuroo’s block, rolling to a stop by Kenma’s feet. The blonde scoops it up, looking at the other three. 

“It’s been an hour. You guys have practice tomorrow, and it’s late.” He says, holding the volleyball lightly in his hands. 

“Ahh, you’re right! We better get back to our dorm, Kuroo.” Bokuto says, lifting his shirt to wipe some sweat off of his face. 

Akaashi blinks, almost losing his composure. Bokuto...was fit. He blinks, scolding himself for staring, and looks down at himself. He barely ate. Probably ate one meal a day, sometimes just running on coffee. He was fit, since his did work out, but it wasn’t very noticeable. He had been told time and time again he looked slightly feminine, and he really wished he didn’t. He didn’t like the way he looked. 

“Goodnight, Akaashi!” Bokuto calls, and Akaashi looks up right as Kuroo swoops in and gently kisses Kenma goodnight. The setter jerks his head to the side, sighing. It really wasn’t fair. 

“Goodnight, Bokuto-san, Kuroo-san.” He mumbles, giving a small wave. The two teens wave, walking down the sidewalk. 

Kenma tosses Akaashi the volleyball, pulling out his phone. The setter falls into step besides his room mate, slowly getting lost in his thoughts. 

Maybe he could tell them? They wouldn’t be disgusted...seeing as how they were also gay. Maybe he could actually be himself for once? But, what if they stopped being his friend? Why would they? Sighing heavily, an irritated groan passes through his lips. He was just...conflicted. 

“Akaashi-san?” Kema says, causing him to jump. He forgot his room mate was there. “Is everything alright?” 

“Hm? Yes.” He lies, glaring at the volleyball in his hands. 

“You…” Kenma trails of, turning off his phone. He slips it into his pocket, looking up at Akaashi. “You’re not...against my relationship with Kuroo, are you?” 

Akaashi freezes, his eyes growing wide. He really didn’t want them to think he was some homophobe. “No, no! Kozume-san, that’s not it. I don’t care that you’re gay- or bisexual? Pansexual? Whatever- I really don’t!” He says quickly. 

Kenma visibly sighs in relief, looking ahead of him again. “I’m gay, yes. Kuroo is pansexual.” He explains, tilting his head. “Bokuto is bisexual.” He says, glancing at Akaashi. 

“O-oh?” He stutters, kicking a rock in his path. 

“What about you? Are you straight?” Kenma asks in a quiet voice. 

Akaashi freezes, his mouth going dry. He stares at Kenma, trying to form an answer. They would accept him- he could tell them- but that nagging voice in his head told him not to. He didn’t want to risk anything. He knew they wouldn’t care that he was gay, but..still…

Suddenly, his breath starts to quicken, and his vision starts to blur. He could hear his teammates laughing at him, hear his parents screaming. 

_‘We don’t want him changing with us! It makes us uncomfortable.”_

_“God, I wish we had another setter. It’s so uncomfortable knowing he can just stare at our legs.”_

_“If I ever see you even glancing at me I swear to god I will beat you.”_

_“You’re disgusting.”_

_“Not only disgusting, but fucking **worthless**. All you have going for you is setting. And you’re not even the best at that.”_

_“You’re easily replaceable. Don’t forget that, you faggot.”_

_**“You’re no son of mine.”**_

“Akaashi-san!” Kenma says desperately, gently shaking him. He shakes his head, trying to calm his breathing. He looks down at Kenma with wide eyes, taking a step back. 

“I’m sorry, is that a sensitive subject?” Kenma whispers, picking up the volleyball he dropped. 

“I- S-sorry- I don’t know what happened there-” He stutters, shame crawling through him in waves. 

“Don’t be. You were having a panic attack, and it’s not your fault. I mentioned something I shouldn’t of.” The blonde says, handing the volleyball back to him, and leading him up the stairs to their dorm. 

“I..just have bad experiences.” He explains, thanking the gods that Kenma didn’t ask him to explain further. “And...um, yes. I..I’m gay.” He whispers so quietly that he wasn’t sure if Kenma would hear, but the blonde stops by their door, turning towards him. 

“You don’t seriously think I, someone who is also gay, would judge you?” He says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He then unlocks the door, walking into the room.

Akaashi blinks slowly, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks. Kenma was the first person to ever accept him. 

\---------------

Akaashi stares at the blank sketchbook, loosely holding the pencil in his hands. A couple months have passed, and he had received his first art assignment. The theme was ‘beauty’..and it should be simple, really. He should be able to look outside and find something to draw, but he didn’t want to do something obvious. 

Closing his eyes, he sees Bokuto smiling at him, asking for a toss. He quickly begins to sketch, only to have the door bang open, causing him to jump in surprise, his pencil scratching against the page creating a dark line. His mouth falls open as he gazes at the now ruined sketch, a sigh escaping his lips. 

“Hey, Akaashi! What are you drawing?” Bokuto asks, Kuroo closing the door behind him. Akaashi glances up, then focuses back at the sketch. It wasn’t even that good, anyways. He tears the page out, crumbling it into a ball, and tossing it into the trash along with his other mistakes. 

“Oh, did we interrupt something?” Kuroo asks, looking at the overfilled trash can. Akaashi sighs, sinking into the couch. 

“Kenma isn’t here.” He mumbles, staring at the paper, ignoring both questions. 

“You act like you’re not our friend. We can hang out with you without having Kenma around.” Kuroo says, plopping down on the other side of the couch. 

Akaashi freezes, slowly looking up. It had been about three or so month since he met and befriended these guys, but he still found it odd that they would want to hang out with him. Kenma knew about his sexuality, but Kuroo and Bokuto didn’t- Kenma respected that he had trouble telling people. 

“I am still not used to people not being disgusted with me.” He says out loud, instantly stiffening up. Honestly why couldn’t he just keep his mouth closed? 

“What?” Bokuto says in surprise, raising an eyebrow. “Wait- are we you’re only friends? Are you telling me that you don’t hang out with anyone when we’re not around? Akaashi! Tell me this isn’t true!” Bokuto gaps, collapsing into the armchair. 

Akaashi narrows his eyes, glancing at his sketchbook. How did Bokuto come to that conclusion from what he said? “I...yes, er- it’s true…” He mumbles, not meeting his gaze. They must think he’s pathetic now. 

“Wha- but- how is that possible?” Bokuto stutters out, his eyes wide. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re..you’re so cool! And pretty! And you may not look like it, but you’re really nice! And you care about the friends you have! How could people not want to be your friend?” Bokuto says, disbelief swirling in his golden eyes. 

_‘Because I’m boring? Because I’m replaceable? Because I’m a disappointment to my parents?’_

Instead of saying that, though, he picks up his pencil, and frowns. 

“Who knows?”

\-----------------

Rubbing his eyes, Akaashi rolls out of bed. He throws his blanket over him like a cape, shuffling away from his room, and into the kitchen. 

Only to have a camera flash in his face. A grinning Bokuto whoops in victory, looking down at his camera. 

“Bokuto-san, you don’t even live here. Why are you here so early?” He grumbles, squinting at the time. It was ten in the morning. 

“Because! Today is the end of the first semester! We finally get a whole week off, and I want to start it off with my best friends!” He exclaims, gently setting the camera down. 

Akaashi sighs, looking at the couch. Kenma was playing some video game with Kuroo, both of them looking quite comfortable. “Alright…” He mutters, looking back at Bokuto. “So, why the picture…?” He asks, hugging the blanket closer to his body. He didn’t know they would be over so early, so he wasn’t wearing his jacket. 

“Well, Kuroo and I paired up for our photography assignment, and the theme was ‘love’ so obviously we’re taking pictures of the people we love!” He says proudly, crossing his arms. A blush blooms across Akaashi’s face, and he looks away in embarrassment. When was the last time anyone ever said they liked him? 

Bokuto laughs, smiling. “Aw, Akaashi! You’re so cute!” He laughs again as Akaashi turns into a stuttering mess. 

“W-whatever, Bokuto-san.” He mumbles, settling down at the table. 

Akaashi picks up his sketchbook, quickly hiding his face with it. And as Bokuto disappears into the room with Kuroo and Kenma, he lets a small smile filter across his face. 

\-------------

The third day of break brought the group of friends to a coffee shop, Bokuto running up to the counter to greet his friend who was working. Akaashi frowns at the shop, wrinkling his nose. He liked coffee, yes, but he wasn’t in the mood to drink anything. He felt...oddly down today. 

Migrating to a booth with Kuroo and Kenma, he sits down beside Kenma. Bokuto comes over a moment later with coffee for everyone, and Akaashi internally sighs. He couldn’t just refuse to drink it, that would be wasting Bokuto’s money.  
“Akaashi?” Kuroo asks, and he quickly jerks his head up, raising an eyebrow. “You okay? You seem down.” 

The brunette stares at the teen, nervously pulling at his long sleeve. Instead of answering, he decides to pull out his phone. 

“You know, Akaashi. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your arms.” Kuroo muses, causing Akaashi to freeze in his movements. 

“Hey! You’re right, bro! I’ve never seen them, either!” Bokuto gasps, turning to Kenma. “You live with him, have you?” 

“Uhm..no. He usually has his jacket or a blanket.” Kenma mumbles, focusing on his game. 

The two turn to Akaashi, Bokuto with wide, curious eyes, while Kuroo was frowning.

“I get cold easily.” 

“It’s hot out. Like, I worked up sweat just walking here.” 

“I…” 

His words get cut off as someone slides up to the table, his messy blonde hair way too familiar for Akaashi’s liking. 

“Woah~ If it isn’t Keiji!” He laughs, looking down at the setter. Akaashi grits his teeth, glaring at his drink. Out of everything, someone from his old team had to show up? Did life just love to hate him?

“Oh...I see you’ve made some friends. Ah, it’s pity, right? Become friends with the guy whose parents paid him to leave...oh, do they know?” He says, grinning as Akaashi tries his hardest not to look at him. he leans in closer, glancing at the other three at the table. “Do they know….” He lowers his voice, “That your parents _disowned_ you? That you’re a disappointment? That you can’t go home because you’ll run into someone who hates you? That you’re a faggot?” 

Akaashi stands up, knocking his drink over, the panic settling over him. He looks at his friends- no, no, not friends anymore, they were going to leave him now- and opens his mouth. Except, nothing comes out except a small broken sound. He turns on his heel, trying to block out his stupid ex-teammate’s laughing as he exits the coffee shop. 

\-----------------

He runs the whole back to his room, his chest pounding. Why was his former captain here? He didn’t go to this school- so did he have a friend he was visiting? Shaking his head, he slips into the restroom. That wasn’t important. What was important was that he was going to lose his friends. He sinks to the tiled floor, resting his head against the now locked door. He hated self-harmed since he entered college,...but it was very tempting at the moment. 

Slowly getting up, he shuffles around for his bag. He lifts it onto the counter, looking for the razor he knew he had. The small piece of metal looked so inviting. It had been way too long-

Rolling up his sleeves, he stares at the faded scars. Placing the metal to his wrist, he takes a deep breath. Maybe if he cut deep enough, he could bleed out and not have to face his friends-

The door to the bathroom flies open, causing him to jump, his hand ripping across his arm. Blood instantly bubbles up, trailing down his pale arm, and dripping onto the floor. 

He slowly turns to the door, his eyes meeting Bokuto’s wide ones. Kuroo and Kenma stood behind him, all wearing matching looks of shock. 

Bokuto lunges forward, grabbing his wrist. He takes the blade out of his hand, and tosses it into the trash. Without saying a word, he drags Akaashi out of the restroom, and into the kitchen. Kuroo follows after him, sighing. 

“Don’t worry about that jackass. Bokuto punched him, I poured my drink on him- thank god it was still hot- and Kenma gave him the scariest look I’ve ever seen him give someone. I can assure you he will never speak to you again.” Kuroo explains, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. 

Akaashi stays silent, staring at his bleeding arm. Kenma comes into the kitchen, handing the first aid kit to Bokuto. The owl-like man instantly goes to work, treating Akaashi’s cut. 

“I’m sorry about your parents.” Kenma whisper, leaning forward so that his hair would cover his face. Akaashi’s eyes grow wide, and he feels his heart skip a beat. 

“Look, we don’t know what went on with your parents and your old team, but don’t, for a second, think that we think of you like that. You’re our friend. We care about you. And seriously, we could never hate you for being gay. That’s just wrong. Especially since we’re all hella gay as well.” Bokuto says gently, wrapping his wrist with a bandage. He then lifts Akaashi’s arm, studying all the scars. 

“Never do this again, okay? Please?” He whispers, his eyes watering. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were in pain, I should’ve been able to hel-” 

“Bokuto-san, it’s okay. You didn’t know.” Akaashi mumbles, still staring at his wrist. “I..I’ll try, but I make no promises. Sometimes I don’t mean to, but it’s become a..terrible habit.” He then slowly lifts his eyes, looking at his three friends. “Um, thank you..and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. It’s not your fault.” Kuroo says, standing up straight. “We won’t ask about your parent’s or about the team, but if you ever need to talk, we’ll be here.” 

Akaashi bites his lip, nervously looking at the ground. Why not tell them? It was obvious now that they wouldn’t just up and leave him. “My parents…” 

“You don’t need to force yourself.” Kenma says, sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs. 

“I...want to.” Akaashi says, clearing his throat. “They figured out I was gay. So did my team. They didn’t take it well, and...well, no one really treated me well. That's’...that’s why I was too scared to say anything.” He whispers, his voice cracking by the end. 

Bokuto steps forward, wrapping the setter into a tight hug. 

“It’s okay to be scared. But just know, you have us now.” 

\------------

Akaashi holds his new owl mug in both hands, gently sipping his coffee. “Thank you, Bokuto-san.” He mumbles, giving his friend a small smile. 

Bokuto instantly sits up straight,fiddling with his hands. “It was no problem! But do you mind if I ask you something?” He asks, tilting his head slightly. 

Akaashi nods, taking another sip, pretending that he wasn’t staring at Bokuto’s lips.

“Well!” He starts, leaning over to dig into his bag. He pulls out his camera, giving Akaashi a sheepish smile. “I have an assignment, and I want you to be my model! Of course, if you’re too uncomfortable, then it’s totally fine, I can probably get Konoha or Komi to do it, but it’s just- they’re not as pretty as y-”

“Bokuto-san, I will.” He says, cutting off his rambling with a small chuckle. “When is it due?”

“Next week.” 

“You waited this long?” 

“I was too scared to ask!” 

“Bokuto-san…” Akaashi sighs, shaking his head. “You’re my friend, I would do anything for you.” He assures, standing up. He drowns the rest of his coffee, and moves to gently place it in the sink. “Let’s go.” 

“Wait- right now?”

“Of course. You should take them now so that you have the rest of the week to edit them. Or whatever it is you have to do.” He says, pulling on a light jacket. 

“Oh, but with a face like yours, I don’t really think I’ll need to do much editing! You’re so hot that you look good no matter what.” He says bluntly, waving his hand as if this was information everyone knew. 

Akaashi’s face heats up, and he stiffly looks away. “L-let’s just go.”

\-------------

As the sun begins to set, Bokuto lifts his camera. “Okay, wow, this lighting is perfect! You, honest to god, look like an angel!” He exclaims, smiling widely. 

Akaashi stands in front of a cherry blossom tree, a slight blush dusting his cheeks. Right as Bokuto snaps a picture, some of the petals ride on the wind, drifting down around Akaashi. 

“Oh my god, this is perfect!” Bokuto grins, turning to show Akaashi the picture. 

A small smile makes it way across his face, and he glances from the camera to stare at his friend. “You know, cherry blossoms are sometimes known to be a symbol of hope.” 

“Huh? Really? That’s cool!” He then pauses, turning to stare at Akaashi. “Do you have any hopes?”

Akaashi nods, his smiling growing. “Yeah.” 

_I hope I never have to say goodbye to you._

\----------------

Akaashi stands in the middle of the room, his phone hangly limply in his hands. 

“Akaashi?” Kenma asks, looking up from his phone. “What’s wrong?” 

Akaashi slowly turns around, gazing at his three friends lounging on the sofa. “Apparently my parents got in a car wreck. They both passed away.” He says in a monotone voice, feeling very conflicted. On one hand, he was upset that his parents were gone. Sure, they hated him...but there once was a time where they didn’t. On the other hand, he couldn’t help but feel slight relief. His parents, one of the sources of his nightmares, were now gone. But would that mean they would stop showing up in his dreams?

“Are you okay?” Bokuto asks, slowly walking towards him. 

“I..I think I am. I shouldn’t be, but I am.” 

\---------------

Akaashi stands next to Bokuto, staring at his parents graves. He skipped the funeral, knowing that they wouldn’t want him to be there. But he still wanted to pay his respects anyways. They had still payed for his college, and provided for him- even if they hated him they still did all of that. 

A small warmth on his hand causes him to return to reality, and he glances down at his hand. Bokuto had moved his hand, lacing their fingers together. Akaashi slowly looks up, looking at his friend. 

Bokuto looks into Akaashi’s green eyes, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m here for you, ya’know? I always will be.” He mumbles, a dark blush covering his face. 

Akaashi blinks slowly, tightening his hand around Bokuto’s. He then steps closer, blinking slowly. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, catching Bokuto off guard. His blush deepens, but a grin plays across his lips. 

“Please do.”

So he does. 

\-------------

What do you do when you wake up in the middle of the night, your heart beat moving a mile a minute? 

What do you do when the darkness caves in, taking control of your mind? 

You look beside you at the man snoring softly next to you, and take a deep breath. 

Because now you know you’re not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr; Pigeon_Religeon ~(*^*)/


End file.
